Attempted Suicide

Today was the day that I was supposed to die, but I have failed once again. All week I have been getting my affairs in order, and I was finally ready to depart from this world. I woke up, went to my one and only class, and left class feeling completely and utterly at ease, and at peace with what I was about to do. My letter was written, I had said my goodbyes, I was ready. I drove home from class, and started tearing up a little bit in the car, but that quickly subsided when I realized that everything was going to be over soon. Today is the day that I die, repeated like a mantra in my head, as I pulled into my driveway. My roommate isn’t expected to be home until late tonight, so I knew that I didn’t have to worry about him coming home to soon. The worst part was that I actually followed through with my plan, and I failed. The last thing that I remember was blacking out whilst listening to my favorite song. I remember thinking that I had finally succeeded at dying after all of these miserable years before everything went black. Unfortunately, six hours later I woke up on the floor, with the realization that sometime in my process of dying that the rope had broken. I have failed once again. I cannot even kill myself right. I do not deserve to be alive. I do not want to be here anymore. I hate this, but most of all I hate myself. I cannot do this anymore, I quit.